Setting off the flashbang had been a good idea at the time. It had distracted the zombies from the team but now they were trapped! The team had escaped but they were left on the third floor of the building. "This way." He flicked his head to the right I and not looking behind he set off down the corridor. Half way to the exit door the sprinklers started. Water soaked through his skin. Reaching the stairwell he opened the door quietly, water dripped from his head as he looked round the door. He hoped it would slow the zombies. He could hear the shuffling of feet but couldn't tell the direction from which it came. Pulling the shotgun from his back he headed down the stairs, what choice did they have? If the zombies below they were most likely dead! He edged downwards quietly, he could hear Ria close behind him. The stairwell was clear. He breathed a quiet sigh of relief. He could hear the noises above him, they were coming closer. Something seemed to be attacting them. At the bottom of the stairwell was a firedoor. He knew the cars were parked at the front of the building. A simple push to exit. They were free. A quick turn to see if Ria was there and he banged the push handle. All hell broke lose.

The fire alarm sounded, deafing them in the stair well. They stumbled outside just ahead of the chasing zombies. More came at them from the right, from the front of the building, there was no way they could get past them. More came from the left. They couldn't go back inside. They were boxed in. A quick look round revealed only one way. The fence at the back of the building bordering the river. Scanning the fence he saw a gate and immediately headed towards it. Finding it locked there was not point in being quiet. One blast from the shotgun disintegrated the lock. Shards of hot metal cut his face as the lock vanished. He kicked the gate open. At the end of the dock there was white cruiser. He turned to Ria. She looked scared. She was bedraggled, her hair wet hanging limp by her white face. "Untie it and get the engine running." She hesitated. "Get moving! I'll hold them here for as long as I can." As she pushed past him he closed the gate as best as he could. "Ria!" he shouted" The Molotovs! " She threw them back at him. He jammed one into the gate and reloaded the shotgun. Stepping away towards the dock he watched the zombies running towards them. He waited. Waited forever and waited for a moment at the same time. He couldn't hear Rias steps any longer. He hoped that was good sign. Looking over his shoulder he watched Ria struggle with the ropes. His heart pounded watching her. He heard the gates move, spinning he let go a shot. The gate burst into flames along with the first of the zombie group. A huge fireball reached for the sky. Bart could feel the heat burning his face he backed off down the gangway.

Zombies continued after him still burning as they chased him down towards the boat. Ria was gone but the boat was still by it's birth at the dock. Turning back he shot dropping the lead two zombies. They fell spreading fire across the dock. Bart backed away more zombies fell onto the fire, but still more made it through. Turning now he ran the last ten yards to the motor yatch reloading as he went. Pulling at his knife he slashed the last rope he pushed at the rail of the yatch with everything he had. He felt the boat move slowly through the water. "Ria get the engine running." he yelled. Turning he fired almost point blank into the first of the chasers then the second. Others rushed past them. Out of ammunition he turned to see the yatch gliding away from him. Taking the last two steps on the dock he jumped for the swimming platform at the back of the yatch. As he jumped the last of the chasers grasped at him. Catching his trailing leg the zombie pulled him towards the water. Barts eyes widened. He knew he wasn't going to make it. He felt his legs being pulled from under him, by reflex alone his arms shot out grasping towards the stern of the yatch. His fingers grasped the teak deck. His fingers dug into the square holes in the deckboards, his chest crashed onto the edge of the platform. It knocked the air out him. Then a second later his head smashed against the deck cutting a square out of his brow.

He could feel the grip on his leg tighten. Turning he saw the green gums and blackened teeth of the zombie. Its head arched back eyes glased ready to take its first bite. His hand flashed to his knife. Pulling his legs close he pulled the zombie close to him. As the zombies threw its head forwards the knife sliced through its neck, and the spinal chord. The head jerked back spewing green blood into the river and over Bart. The engines coughed into life. Relief fell over him. The zombie dead.

The dead zombie was a dead weight. Bart could feel it pulling him towards the propellers. Kicking frantically Bart was pulled further under the stern of the yatch. As his head went under he could see the lifeless zombie cut open by the prop. The water turning green with blood. One last kick hit the remaining hand. He was free. His head popped up. He heard the engines being gunned. His fingers still jammed into the deck boards he was being dragged along. He looked towards the dock and could see firey zombie lemmings jumping after them. Slowly he pulled himself half onto the swimming platform. He was safe for now. He collapsed, lying with his body on the deck, his feet dangling in the water. He closed his eyes for a moment, then with the last of his strength he pulled himself up. Sitting with his back to the stern, he drew his legs in agaist the sudden cold. He wasn't dead, but he was stuck on a yatch with the woman who'd betrayed him. The woman he'd been trying to avoid for weeks now. He dropped his shaking head in his hands and sighed.

"Untie it and get the engine running!" That was easy said. I sawed through the ropes as quick as I could, left one intact because he wanted on too I supposed. Once on board I ran towards what I thought would be the steering hut, on top, a half open hut.

It was the steering hut. There was a big wheel. And some buttons. Which I pushed. And nothing happened. I took a moment to think. Left and right was done by the wheel, that much I knew about steering a boat. Panting I turned it this way and that, and pushed the button marked 'engine' both when I was at the far left and the far right. Again, nothing happened.

The diffuse noises from ashore didn't really help my thinking. 'Forward' was the normal position on a boat, just as in a car, that much I knew. One wouldn't need to push something for that. 'stop' was an other button. I knew the propeller had to turn the other way some time to stop a boat. I pushed 'engine' again.

The engine room! There had to be one, maybe I had to pull some levers there before I could start the darn thing. The engine room had to be below deck. Thus I turned, caught a glimpse of Bart fighting some zombies, the boat moved gently on the stream, while I ran down the stairs. My ears were still ringing from the blasts and the alarm but I could hear my footsteps now.

The door was locked. That made sense. One wouldn't want someone to rob the boat. That might be why one couldn't start it by simply pushing the button 'engine'. That made sense too. I kicked the door. It didn't bulge. Had I seen a slot up there to put a key in? My hands on my knees, gasping for air I tried to remember if I had seen one. Slowly I shook my head. I couldn't picture the panel in the hut. Could a boat be started like a car, like Dan had taught me?

I had to enter this door. Or an other one. An other door meant running around again, and it would be locked also, so this was the one to open now. I put the point of my machete between the door and the frame and pulled it up and down. At two points there was a resistance. High and low on the doorframe. I pulled at the handle, kicked with my foot at the same time at the lowest point my machete had been stopped.

Weeks Bart had ignored me. Everything finally had been more or less okay, we started to feel at home in the new place, they had joined us, together with Troy and the others we were a strong enough group and now we had decided to do another raid in the city before the weather would turn bad. We had loaded a lot of stuff we would need or could use to trade with when we had decided to take a look on the third floor. I kicked with all my might and except Bart yelling at me to start the boat, nothing happened. The door didn't bulge.

Desperate I sliced the machete in the frame, just above the resistance. Both hands on the door handle I pulled and put my foot against the hilt of my machete and pushed it to the right to lever the door from the lock. I felt the door move. Pulled and pushed harder, nearly cut my leg as my machete broke. My machete slithered over the deck.

I pulled the one on my back from its sheath and pushed the tip in beside the broken one. Heaving at the door I could push it a bit further I thought. I took a deep breath. And another one. Shutting out everything else from my mind I pulled with both hands at the door while I pushed at the hilt of my machete. If I broke this one ...

The door moved! It moved! Seconds later I was able to put my fingers around the lower part of the door and heaved with more strength than I thought I had in me while at the same time I pushed against the machete. The gap widened. Gripping higher on the frame, I was able to pry it open wider before I fell on my backside because it snapped open.

On my hands and feet I scrambled inside, picking my machete on the way. Stumbling in my haste to get on my feet I put it in the sheath only to take it out moments later when my eye felt on a little box against the wall. It looked like a box one keeps keys in ...

It was steel. It had a lock. Certainly a box to keep keys in! This lock was easier to break open. Inside were keys. Labeled. Door 1 Door 2 Home (Home!) Engine Engine room. Engine! That meant ... I grabbed the key ran back up, saw Bart fighting a zombie with his knife and found a a keyhole under the button engine, hidden under a neat yellow shimmering plaque with "Dreams are forever" written in curly engraved letters on it. I found it only because it moved under my fingers as I used them nervously to aid my eyes in the search.

Fumbling I inserted it, at the same time pushing the button with the flat of my other hand, praying as I had never had prayed before. This mess could make one pious like some of the old folks with Troy had gotten!

Deep below me something rumbled, coughed and the engine started!

"Sorry," I called down to Bart, "I had to get to the kitchen for the key!"

Tentatively I turned the wheel to the right and the darn thing moved away from the dock. Slowly, but it moved!

"Pull the anchor!" I yelled at Bart, just because it seemed the appropriate thing to say now.

Pull the anchor? What the hell was she on about? I yanked out the land power cable before it snapped. I was mad now. All she had to do was untie the ropes and start the engine. She hadn't done that and she'd nearly got me killed again. We were drifting out into the middle of the channel now. What zombies were left were burning or drowned. At least I was safe for now. The light was good for maybe an hour but no more. With the team scattered it might be as well to wait it out on the boat. I hoped that there would be some food onboard. These big boys normally had a feezer and a fridge, a full kitchen better than mine at home. Having the land power was a good sign. The owners would have them stocked usually throughout the season. It had been a long time since I'd had a cold beer. I was shivering now. Slowly I unwrapped my legs stretching them, feeling the stiffness and the ache of my muscles. Standing I wearily lifted my leg over the aft rail and used it to leaver myself onto the deck. Once there I lifted the swimming platform. I didn't want any surprise visitors, human or not. I noticed blood on the deckand looked for the source immediately worried a zombie had somehow got in board I pulled my parang from its sheath. I saw more blood now, it was just around me. My free haand lifted to my head. I winced, as I touched a bare square of flesh. It was bad. It really needed stitches, but that wasn't an option now unless there was some fishing line around.

I was shivering now. Either cold or shock I didn't know which. I was time to get inside. Opening the glass doors I stepped into the main lounge. I couldn't see Ria, that was a good thing the way I felt now. I slumped down on the white leather sofa and started stripping off my clothes. I needed a rest, and I needed some dry clothes. Wearily I headed down the stair well to see if some clothes were left on board leaving my wet clothes on the floor.

I turned the wheel hard, we moved away from the docking but only at a snail's pace. A boat is not a car, i told myself, think! Like a car it had an engine though. In a car you have to set to a higher gear if you want to move faster. There was a thingy on the dashboard in front of me, I had seen it when I searched the keyhole, a round scale with a lever ...

Pulling the wheel to the right I studied the dashboard and found the scale. I turned the lever to the next setting and the sound of the engine changed almost immediately. It took a while until the boat moved faster though. Much longer than it would take a car to move faster. I almost begged the boat to move faster.

I glanced to the back. I could just see Bart. He was getting up and he yanked at some cable I had missed in my hurry to start the boat. This boat was our only change now. We couldn't go back to the dock, much too much zombies between us and our trucks. None of our friends was visible ashore. I hoped they had made it back to the trucks safely. I also hoped they would go back to the winery. Bart and I had to search for another docking with cars near it.

We didn't have much time now though, it would be dark soon. Really dark, since the power had failed completely and only very few lights, and no street lights at all, would light the night. Now the nights were dark like I had experienced them only when I had been far from civilization on a hiking trip or something like that.

My subconsciousness registered footsteps on the boat. Slow, dragging steps from a slow zombie. I let go off the wheel, grabbed my machete and turned to kill the damned thing. I couldn't believe Bart wasn't doing anything to get rid of the dammed thing! This was the second time today he put me in danger!

Two quick, silent steps brought me to the stairs and I looked down to the small walkway at the sides of the hut/kitchen/living whatever-it-was-called on the deck below me. Relieved I sighed deeply. It wasn't a zombie, but Bart. He walked very unsteady though. He probably had hurt his leg while he jumped aboard and fought off the zombie. If I remembered right, he had been in the water at one point so he might be cold also. Adrenaline gone now, all these reasons might very well be the cause of his unsteady gait. I watched long enough to see he opened the door I had broken open before and got inside. Nice.

He seemed to think it wasn't necessary to tell me what he wanted to do inside.

Angry I returned to the wheel. We had to get away from here, we needed a safe spot to anchor. The middle of the river seemed safest to me. Only after I had the boat back on course, praying I wouldn't steer us into a sandbank or some rocks I realized Bart was bleeding.

From his head. So he had hurt his head while he jumped aboard. I couldn't help him now though. I had to steer the boat. The few seconds I had left the wheel the current had brought us back to the shore a bit already. Zombies were following us there. Some quick ones, a lot of slow ones. Most of the zombies where behind the fence. If I could bring us far enough away before their pure mass would break the fence they would lose interests when I stopped the engine.

A cool wind blew over the river and I started to shiver as my adrenaline level dropped a bit We were quite safe but not safe enough. More power would bring us to a much safer place faster, it would also be more attractive to the zombies ...

I took the risk and put the engine in a higher gear.

After about five minutes, the zombies where still clearly visible behind the fence and some new ones neared the now open shore, I killed the engine. It was much harder to steer the boat as the velocity sank, I managed to keep us in the middle of the river though.

If there where clothes on board Bart had had enough time to find them, put them on, wrap a towel around his head and come to the steering hut, I thought while I watched both shores. Not many zombies near them now. Some where already moving back into the city. We had lost all the velocity we ever had, only the current moved us along. Bart needed to come back to deck and drop the anchor! I couldn't leave the wheel to do that or the same current would bring us closer to the shore again while I figured out where the anchor was and how I should drop it.

I wanted all zombies wandering away before I started the engine again!

That was when I heard her shouting. I heard exasperation, maybe fear in her voice as she called for me. Despite the tiredness I ran back up the stairs to the sitting area and through the door onto the aft deck. The cold hit me again. Standing in my shorts outside it was freezing. "Where the hell are you?". I shouted unable to keep the edge out of my voice. Her voice came from the flying bridge on the upper deck. "Where the hell do you think I am. I'm up here! " She yelled back. I climbed the stairs and found her at the wheel. The engine was off and and the boat was drifting. "Look. " She pointed at the zombies on the bank. They are tracking us. We just need to sit tight and we'll be OK. We need to drop the anchor here in the middle of the river." I understood. "Ok we need to turn the engine back on. Its a power winch for the anchor. ". We started the engine and I pressed power winch controller. We heard the chains clatter as two huge anchors dropped into the water followed by tonnes of heavy chain. "Ok you can turn it off now. That will hold us. " Shivering now and turning from her I headed from the flying bridge. "We need to get warm before hypothermia gets us." I didn't look back, she was a big girl, she could look after herself. "I'll see if I can find the aircon contols and get some heat going.". That said I left her there.

Darn! The button for the anchor had been right in front of me the whole time!

I could have pushed that also. I wondered why I hadn't seen it. Probably because I was set on searching something to start the boat, and skipped everything that didn't look as if it was a starter button.

Slightly fuming I watched Bart walk away. I never had seen him in shorts ... He would see if he could get the heat going! I shook my head. The heat had been going just great a while back. Those few kisses had made my blood boil. It had simmered for quite a while after he had suddenly turned away from me. I still didn't know why.

At first I thought it was the Attack on the Knight and my scratches. I had told myself he was just afraid I had Napoleon. Then that he didn't want to do anything which could make me feel he had committed in any way to me because he didn't want to suffer if anything happened to me or me to suffer if anything happened to him or because he simply didn't even want a friend with benefits.

Sighing I sat down at the top of the stairs and looked out over the river. It was a small river. Nothing compared to the Rhine I grew up beside. On the Rhine a boat like this would not have looked out of place. Here it looked as if it was much too big for the river. It looked as if the owners were boasters. But maybe they had followed the river to the coast and 'sailed' the ocean in it. If the weather wasn't too bad it would be safe enough in a boat this size.

My mind wandered back to Bart. Why the abrupt change in his attitude towards me? I leaned my head against the railing. I wished I had barbed wire to wrap around the water level railings. I wished I had stakes and spears to put in the railings to prevent zombies from climbing on. Or zombies, I had never seen a zombie swimming in the river all these weeks. They always crossed it over bridges. It was as if they hated the cold water too much to swim to food.

I wrapped my arms around my chest and leaned my chin on my hand. Some zombies were still ambling around on the shore, but they were not interested in the boat anymore. Kissing and hugging with Bart had been absolutely wonderful. Twice after the debacle at the armory I had tried to kiss or hug him; once while we met to plan the relocation, once while relocating. Both times I had made sure nobody else was around. One time he had just walked on, had only nodded at me and left me standing half hugging the air in front of me; once he had turned away from me so quickly I nearly stumbled.

At that moment I had shed two tears and decided he had found himself a younger, more attractive model and just didn't want to tell me. He had been flirting a bit with Cassandra and for a little while I observed them whenever I had the chance to do so in a discreet way. They never hugged or kissed or whatevered as far as I knew though.

A few days ago I decided it had just been a spur of the moment thing and started to look at the other free men with different eyes. No-one was like him though. Twilight set in and I shivered. One more time I scrutinized the zombies. The eery silence hit me.

No car engine, no voices, no airplane, no nothing.

Tired as a log I heaved myself upright and climbed down the stairs. This boat had possibilities. We could sail to the sea and fish. We could use it to scout the shores. We wouldn't be able to protect it though, no way we could get it close enough to the Winery or we needed to load it onto a truck every time we disembarked.

I carefully climbed down the staircase onto the aft deck. My feet feeling the cold of the wood. This thing was huge. It must be a corporate character. I wondered if we could get it back to the Winery. It might be a safer way to travel and you could carry a lot of provisions on something this size. Looking back up the stairs I could see no sign of Ria.It seemed she enjoyed the cold. She was cold. I saw her clothes wet through sticking to her. The coldness somewhat obvious. A month ago I would have held in my arms and warmed her with body heat. Now all I could see when I looked at her wet clothes clinging to her was that picture. I thought I'd put it behind me. I was even civil and talking to her now. We had never discussed it. I couldn't see any point. Even if it wasn't like her she'd done it. I really needed to let it go.

I headed into the main lounge. The aircon was on the wall panel with the lights and AV system controls. I set it to max. A small hum started, the generator had kicked in. I headed to my clothes wet on the floor and removed my phone. It was build to survive being in the water for half an hour but it was best to get it dry. Setting aside my parang I fished it out of my pocket I wondered how long it would be and use; how long it would be before it would just carry memories, good and bad. Drying it on the curtains I set down on the marble counter top. I could feel the heat rising from the vents, it sent a shiver through me as my body started to warm. I needed to check the rest of the yatch. I wasn't sure that it was empty. It would be safer if therethere was two of us checking together. I thought abou calling for Ria, but instead headed deeper into the yatch.

Down the stairway I found the galley. Chrome and black marble everywhere. It was better equipped than my old house had been before I abandoned it. Five doors headed from the galley. I checked each, quietly opening the doors one at a time, my knife raised, ready. My heart pumping fast. All of the forward cabins were empty. The door to the rear on the port side led to the crew quarter and the engine room. Both again empty. The last door would be the owner cabin. I opened it, again, slowly. Flicking the light on I jumped at the black hulk of a body off to my right. Yelling out I hit it as hard as could with the heavy knife. The wardrobe door smashed open, splinters flying everywhere. I had killed it. It was the most dead towelling robe ever. I sat on the huge bed. I guess I'm a little jumpy I thought. Gragging my self off the bed I checked the last door to the ensuite, empty again I breathed a sigh of relief.

I felt the tiredness now. I stripped off my shorts and sat back on the bed. It was so comfortable. I so much wanted to sleep, but I was cold, still cold. I reached for the dead robe, brushing off the wooden splinters I stood and out it on. It was warm against my skin apart from the slash through the heart area on my left side of my chest. I looked like a fashion victim or ziggy stardust, but at least I was warm.

Both hands on the railing I slid down the rest of the stairs, ran towards the wide open door. A moment I looked for an intruder until it dawned on me I had broken the lock. Put a sofa in front of it now, or later I asked myself. I was already at the stairwell I hadn't noted before though, so I jumped down these stairs as well.

A kitchen. Five doors. Open. But no Bart and no more sounds of fighting, dragging a corpse or even eating ... I drew my machete and creeped forward, the only sound the hard pounding of my heart. In a rack where silvery or chrome cloches. I took one, it would make a poor shield but it was better than an empty hand.

Behind the first door was nothing. A faint noise from behind me made me turn. I couldn't place the noise so I crept forward to it.

I heard the noise before I saw her. Through the part open door I saw her machete in one hand, pan lid in the other like some ancient worrier princess. I had to smile. She on the other hand looked like she was going to kill someone, me maybe. She slumped against the wall. I could see her shivering. The adrenaline had left her body, she was exhausted, cold and still a little scared. I looked at her there. I had to admire her. I knew she'd come down here because she heard me shout. She came, and she was here to fight for my life. She was some woman. Her clothes clung to her. I could see her shape. The curve of her hip narrowing to her waist, the flare of her breasts. Her hardness of her nipples showing through her wet shirt. I thought to reach out for her. It was that image that snapped me back out of my day dreams.

I stood moving passed her. As I did my hand brushed her hip. Despite myself I felt a buzz just touching her. "You need to get out of those clothes. I will see if I can find some food and maybe something to drink. I don't know about you, but I could use a drink." I headed back into the galley and then up the stairs to find my phone in case we could contact the others. I checked the fridge hidden in the fitted units. They were full. Beer wine, champagne, water, it was full to the brim. For the first time today I smiled. Picking some beers and my phone I headed back to the galley. The door to the master cabin was still slighty open. I could see Rias clothes on the floor. Despite myself I craned my neck to see if I could see her.

I still didn't know why he yelled. I still didn't know why he had ignored me politely for the most time we were in the Winery. I did know the sight of him in the bathrobe sent a tingle down my spine. Again. After the tingle I felt seeing him in shorts. And then to feel his hand on my hips ...

"You need to get out of those clothes. I will see if I can find some food and maybe something to drink. I don't know about you, but I could use a drink." He said nonchalantly as he passed me.

I glared at his back as he headed for the stairs. When I couldn't see him anymore I listened to the sounds he made upstairs. With my elbows I pushed myself away from the wall. My head tilted, I listened to him while I looked into the room he had came out off. On the floor lay his shorts. Two steps brought me inside and with my heel I kicked the door to shut it. A wardrobe door hung in splinters from its hinges. So he had yelled at that door and kicked it in? Why? I shook my head. It was a nice wardrobe. Four doors. Two for him, and two for her? The machete back in its sheath, the cloche on the bed table, I tried the other wardrobe doors. They opened easily when I turned the knobs.

A lot of clothes looked back at me. And I looked back at me because in one door was a big mirror. I looked dreadful. My hair was a mess, a smear adorned my cheek, and some more my wet clothes. I grabbed a set of jogging pants and a sweatshirt out off what had been the man's wardrobe. Quickly I ripped my clothes off and slipped into the sweatshirt. Then some drawers on the woman's side caught my eye. Some very nice lingerie sets winked at me when I opened the top one.

I had only my two sets; the one I had been wearing and the one that was in my rucksack when I ran into the Knight. I hadn't been able to find much in my size. Some functional bras and panties, but nothing nice.

I judged the clothes. A few dresses, shorts, shirts, jeans. They didn't look very small nor very big ... They might fit me. The undies ... I took a bra in my hands, eyed the cups critically. The band. I stretched it between my hands. Black wasn't my colour though. Dark blue was much nicer. Or the peach set. Or the yellow one, or ... my fingers hovered over the sets, tipping at one and then an other before I decided on a set. I didn't want to wear it on my dirty body and under a man's sweatshirt and jogging pants though. Quickly I grabbed a green blouse and a a pair of jeans. If it would fit me ... I headed for the bathroom. Even cold water would be nice if there was soap.

The door was open just a crack. I couldn't see Ria directly. Through the crack in the door I could see a mirror. As Ria moved backwards and forwards I caught glimpses of her. I could see her back, her pale skin contrasting against the dark wood of the wardrobe. Her back gave way to the curve of her bottom. Then she was gone. I took a breath, mourning the loss of that moment. I looked for her again craning my neck to see if I could see her. I couldn't. I heard her moving through the doors of the wardrobe and the drawers. I opened the beer infront of me. I took a deep drink, tasting the bitterness in my mouth. I looked for her again, but saw nothing. I frowned. Now I was angry at myself looking for this woman who had chosen to be with Lee and never even spoke to me about it. I had no idea if she knew that I knew. I that I'd made it obvious, so maybe she did. My eye caught her as she passed by the door, this time clothed. She opened the door to the ensuite and disappeared inside leaving the door open just a little.

I stood and moved to the galley looking for something to eat. As I did I looked back over my shoulder and noticed I could see into the ensuite. I tried not to look, I looked through the draws and the cupboard. I even found a well stocked fridge-freezer. All the time I wanted to look round for her. Eventually I couldn't resist. I moved to a spot where I could see through the door again.

Gold, black and white, a real decadent dream! Under the vanity was a small cupboard which I opened after I put my clothes on a stool. Fluffy white and black towels and facecloths on a shelf, some supplies on the bottom one. Expensive shampoos, body washes and lotions. I picked a bottle of each and opened the water in the shower.

Cold. And it stayed cold.

Two towels then. One to dry and a dry one to wrap myself in afterwards.
I was used to take real quick showers now. There was only so much warm water and lots of people who wanted a bit. Shivering I shampooed my hair, took enough time to get all soap out off it and washed my body. I felt even more cold than before when I was done with drying my skin. It was as if my skin was still wet, so cold I was when I wrapped the second towel around me.

I had goose bumps all over my body when I started the blowdryer. The heat on my head made the cold in the rest of my body more intense. But my hair looked nice when it was dry. I was very glad Carla helped me to get some color back into my hair the other day. People had looked a bit queer when I had stuffed my backpack with various package of hair dye at the drugstore, but I had noted the outgrow of my strains was quite prominent. When my hair was completely dry I felt less cold, had less goose bumps and looked a the bottle of lotion.

Should I or should I not? I shrugged off the towel and filled my cupped hand with the creamy liquid, dripped some in my other hand and massaged it in on my leg. It felt marvelous ...

With a lot of strange moves I even managed to do my back.

My eyes wandered to the clothes on the stool. The undies ... If they fitted me, I would stuff all of them in a bag. I would stuff them in a bag anyway, one of the other ladies would be happy if they didn't fit me. First I slipped on the panties. They fitted. Which gave me hope the jeans would fit too. As they did. This woman could have been my twin ... The bra, I only had to alter the bands a bit and it fitted me perfectly. I closed the last button of the blouse, opened one more at my neck, went back to the wardrobe.

Shoes. I had seen some nice shoes. But this was the one thing our sizes differed. With a sigh I took some socks out off a box and pulled them over my feet.

I don't know what devil whispered in my ear, but I returned to the bathroom and took the mascara and eyeliner I had seen and did my eyes.

Blue jeans, chocolate brown blouse with tiny stripes in bottle green, dark green undies hidden under it; I felt ready to conquer the world and went to the kitchen where Bart was busy cooking.

I saw her passing in front of the the door, a blur of movement and a flash of skin. I was embarrassed at myself looking to see her. Still I moved further to try and see into the bathroom. I couldn't see from the galley. Almost on automatic pilot I walked to the cabin door, opening it I heard the shower switch on and a small noise as she stepped into it. I imagined her there naked only two metres away. I put my hand on the bathroom door handle. I imagined the slope of her neck, her breasts dripping with water, her nipples hard. I felt the desire for her rise in me again and I felt the soft caress of the oweling robe on me. I imagined Lee, his hands on her and I recoiled from the door.

Leaving the cabin I closed the door behind me to where I thought it was. I didn't want her to know I had been there. I hurried back into the galley busying myself trying to make the memory fade. The galley was well stocked. I found steaks in the freezer, some old potatoes which were sprouting but still edible and a bulb of garlic. The microwave worked as long as the generator had diesel. The defrosted steak was frying with a clove of garlic flavoring the pan. The potatoes were in the microwave 'backing'. I checked the fridge. Nothing was edible, the salad draw long since dead. There was only booze. I pulled another beer out and opened it, blessing twist off caps.

I reached into my pocket and pulled out the phone. Selecting the picture I set it on the table. It was time to talk about this. I couldn't have the mix of feelings churning me every time we were alone. I needed to get it out. I could feel my anger rising even thinking about it. My fist tightened around the bottle. I heard the shower stop. Nerves rose from the pit of my stomach into my throat. I swigged the beer trying to quench the fire but it burned all the way down.

I flipped the steaks, removing the garlic before it burned. They would be ready in a moment, flash fried on the outside while red and juicy inside, just passed rare I guessed by the time they were eaten. I took them from the heat covering them I let them rest. I was checking the potato when I heard a noise behind me. I turned to see Ria, but notnot as I'd seen her ever before. The clothes fitted her so well, her hair was styled rather than functional. Her face was flushed slightly. She wore make-up! A "Wow." Escaped from my lips before could stop it. Her eyes shone, the darkness of the mascara framing them like a masterpiece. For a moment I was lost them. I remembered our kiss, the kiss. I remembered hanging a cloth in her room to make a curtain and our embrace.

I remembered the phone, not wanting this moment to pass. I looked at it. The screen had timed out, the picture turned into black. I licked my lips, my mouth dry all of sudden. "Foods nearly ready." I said my voice quiet. "There is a beer there for you. I'll try to find some plates and culturally. I hope you like it rareish.". I turned away, and as I did adjusted the robe, pulling it safely across my middle.

Awkwardly I stood in the kitchen. Bart had looked me allover before he said wow, looked at his phone and turned, instantly my cheeks started to burn. The smile was gone. I didn’t know what to make from it. He had looked like that before. And turned like that before, or walked away. The look and wow made me think he still liked me. The turning away he didn’t.

A moment long I thought hard about going back to the bathroom to clean my face and change into the jogging pants and the sweatshirt. But that would be ridiculous and he might think I had dressed up for him. Well, he had been on my mind when I choose these clothes, but it was simply wonderful to have nice clothes. Most of the time I had been running around in one of my two tourist’s outfits or a coverall. Once in a slip and t-shirt during an emergency. Other times in a comfy, baggy jogging dress. Never in something really nice like this. Never in the last weeks I had the time or the opportunity to pamper myself a bit. I put some color back in my hair, yes, but that had just been grooming. It was the same as brushing my teeth. I only didn’t do it as frequently.

Food. Bart had talked about food and setting the table when he turned away from me. My eyes moved from his back to the table. He had been opening cupboards and drawers and now turned to the table, plates and cutlery in his hands. I drew in a deep breath, decided to ignore all of this and forced myself to step to the table.

“You cooked, I’ll lay the table. Don’t you want to get some warmer clothes than just this slashed robe?” I took the plates out off his hands and put them on the table. “Go, I’ll look for napkins and glasses, or do you drink your beer from the bottle?”

I busied myself with setting the table, placed the plates opposite from each other and gently moved his phone to the site. The food smelled good. Mouthwatering good. Too good for beer. I looked at the row of cupboards. One looked like, and yes, when I opened it, it was a wine cabinet. Behind a captioned door some bottles lay in racks. Some well-known French wines, Côte de Beaunes, some Bordeaux, even two bottles of Lafite Rothschild among them, and quite some of “our own” King Signature Pinot Noirs. It wasn’t difficult to chose. I never had tasted a Lafite Rothschild. I had always wondered if they were worth their price. The bottle in my hand I searched the drawers for a corkscrew.

The first sniff was a bit unpromising, but when I poured some in a wineglass and swirled it, a world of aromas opened. Leaning against the counter, the bottle still in my hand, I sipped. And sighed. It really was a marvelous wine. I still wasn’t sure if it was worth the price but it certainly was exceptional. I took another sip and filled my glass for a quarter.

I put the bottle on the table, a glass for Bart. I sipped some more from my glass while I searched for napkins. I found some candles. What should I do with them? What would he think if I put some on the table? I shrugged my shoulders. I liked them. And we didn’t know how long the generator would work, did we? I took another sip before I put my glass down and the candles on the table. It looked cluttered. I pushed his phone to the end of the table and turned to look for napkins. I really wanted them now. A moment I half turned back, the phone had come alive while I shoved it away, but I couldn’t make out the picture from where I was standing. Soon I had nice jade colored serviettes, put one under the bottle and one on each plate and sat down on the bench. I looked at his phone. The screen was dark again.

I could feel my face redden as I turned away. I couldn't believe I said it. Wow, for heavens sake! When she offer me the chance to get some clothes I was relieved. "Beer out of the bottle for me is fine. There are some potatoes in the microwave. You could always cut them and fry them if they are not ready." I turned seeing her set the table I admired her from behind. A smile crept on my face as she bent over the table. I saw her move my phone. The screen still blank, but as her hand left it she must have hit the large screen. It jumped into life. Although I couldn't see it I knew what the picture was. She didn't seem to notice, busy doing the 'practical Ria' thing she always did. It felt odd though; watching this new so feminine Ria behaving that way. I expected she would act differently, move differently, be, somehow different. I headed to the cabin, seeing she had moved the phone again I picked it up. I felt a shiver of relief! What? I was relieved she hadn't seen it? I put it in my pocket and walked away. "Maybe you can serve? I won't be long." I cast over my shoulder as I entered the cabin.

I opened what was left of the first wardrobe, the wooden slats shattered. Inside there were plenty of clothes. Mostly bright and garish, the clothes of a much younger man. I picked out the first t-shirt. Orange with a motif I didn't recognise I pulled it over my head. It stuck like glue. I pulled it down, it barely covered my belly. Compared to Ria he was going to look stupid. I took it of after a small struggle. I tried some jeans. They were the opposite. So baggy at the top they didn't stay up, but still so short that they left half my calfs bare. I took them off and sat on the bed. I pulled the draws open. Sports clothing. I tilted my head, maybe, just, maybe. Rummaging through I found a basketball vest, the label said XXL. I put it on. It fitted! Well it fitted like a regular vest, tight. I looked for the shorts. Finding them I slid them on. The waist was loose just hanging on my hips, the legs such as they were, ended three inches above my knees. So in bright yellow and purple I looked like the kid who had forgotten his gym gear and had to borrow the schools leftovers.

I headed to the head and washed my face and hands. The water was cold. I imagined Ria standing in the shower under the cold water and smiled. I was ready. Looking back over my shoulder I headed through the doorway. My head crashed against the door frame. My face contorted in pain. I had been so careful so far. My hand felt a trickle of blood. I bent back at the sink I washed my head with a small hand towel. The cut wasn't bad, more embarrassing than painful. I headed into the cabin ducking under the door this time. Looking at myself in the mirror I shook my head. The shorts were even worse than I had thought. I picked up my phone not switching it on, took a breath, and headed into the cabin, carefully.

I had felt his eyes upon me the whole time he had been in the room with me. I was glad to be alone for a moment. The candles and the wine winked at me; my hand went to my pocket but my lighter wasn't there. All my stuff was still in the pockets of my coverall or on a heap on the vanity.

Potatoes in the microwave oven. Who had ever heard of potatoes cooked in the microwave? I heard Bart moving around in the bedroom, took a bit more than a sip from the Lafite and got up.

"A frying pan on the stove, light the gas, get it hot while you chop some onions, fry some smoked bacon while you cut the potatoes, get it out and the onions and the potatoes in, crumble the bacon and add it when the potatoes are brown." My grandmother's receipt for fried potatoes. I still had heard her voice when I made them that way. Pan and onions I had, bacon I couldn't find, but some vacuumed coppa ... That would do the trick too I decided.

Quickly I set to work and soon the coppa added its flavor to the mix.

I couldn't see any vegetables. Some salad would be nice I thought but what I had seen in the fridge when I took an onion out, wasn't very appetizing. I had seen some cans when I searched for the glasses and the napkins. Artichoke hearts and palm hearts. Quickly I drained them and chopped them up, stirring the potatoes once in while in between. I never had seen this brand in any of the shops I frequented at home or in one of the shops we had scavenged in. I tried a piece of each and was very satisfied with the quality.

Form the bedroom I heard a strange noise. As if Bart had bumped into something. He didn't seem to need help though and so I returned to the cupboard with the cans. Strawberries in their own juice ... I licked my lips while I opened the can and emptied it in a bowl. A bowl for the potatoes I had already put on the counter; I stirred them once more when I heard Bart returning.

I looked over my shoulder. Then, the spoon still in my hand, I turned. Stifled a giggle.

Ria laughed when I went into the galley. I saw the funny side even if I felt myself go red with embarrassment. Stupidly I tried to make it funny by pretending to do a jump shot. My head hit the ceiling lining, thankfully it was softer than the door frame. That time I didn't cut my head. I collapsed onto the bench seat next to the table rubbing my sore head. I smiled at Ria. For all the pain I was in then I sensed a change in the atmosphere. Like a storm had broken. I looked over to her. "Something smells good." I smiled again sniffing the air. I was suddenly aware of my hunger. My stomach rumbled loudly. "Did you hear that? I am starving. I could eat a whole hairy horse!". She smiled back at me. "Well its just about ready, would you like some wine?". She offered me a glass of red. I tasted it tentatively. "This is good.". I took another sip, then a gulp. I felt the alcohol going to my head already. I'd only had a beer and half a glass of wine. Then I rembered the last time I'd had a drink; when I got the text. I pushed the wineway. My hand went to the phone in my back pocket. Taking the phone I put it on the table, my fingers toying with it pensively.

I stood suddenly and headed to Ria. "Do you need any help?" Seeing the strawberry bowl I took one sloppily dropping juice on my vest and my face. "Oh those look good." I pointed at the pan of potato. I touched Ria on the shoulder. "Thank you, this is so nice.". I knew that we had to spend the night on board. I resolved to make the best of it.

Bart jumping up and hitting his head on the ceiling made me laugh. And it made me aware how tall he was. In fact he was one of the few people I knew (or had known) I really had to look up too.

Him sitting there and rubbing his head pitiful like a little boy in these hideously comical clothes opened my heart again. I reached for the wine bottle.

"Something smells good." He said while he sniffled promptly his stomach rumbled very audible.

I smiled.

"Did you hear that? I am starving. I could eat a whole hairy horse!" I nodded, one couldn't have misinterpreted the noise for anything else than the sound of a very hungry man.

"Well, its just about ready, would you like some wine?" I asked, the bottle above his glass. He didn't really say yes or no, just looked at me. I poured and handed him the glass. He took a sip and clearly liked it. Then his mood seemed to change. He pushed the wine away and played with his phone. Had he been looking at pictures of family? Of friends? Or of a girlfriend? I swallowed and turned back to the stove.

I scooped the potatoes in a bowl when Bart asked me if he could help me. He stroked my shoulder and immediately a happy blush covered my cheeks. He still liked me, but why he had politely ignored me all these days? Memories of happier days?

"Thank you, this is so nice."

"You started it, you found the meat and potatoes and started to cook, I am just finishing it off. If you bring the meat we should eat and enjoy the feast?" The bowls with potatoes and the improvised salad in my hands I walked over to the table and put them in the middle between our plates. I sat down on the bench against the wall, took my glass and sipped.